Magician
by LeozVinci
Summary: Erik performed as magician at small local fair. But sometimes crowd didn't get his magic very well and he ended alone in the crowd what wanted to hurt him. Only one person can see his soul throught the mask and save him.


**Summary:** As long as I could remember I have very vivid dreams. These dreams are my greatest well of inspiration. Some time ago I was dreaming about crowd what was full of agresion. It was really bad dream. And when I woke up I realised, that Erik in his life performed as Living corpse, so he had experience with this kind of crowd. Crowd full of eyes what hurts so badly...

* * *

Scream.  
He was accustomed on screaming.  
Sometimes there was an apprehension, sometimes anger, but there was always scream.  
The crowd of people standing before his stage seemed impenetrable. It was almost like never-ending substance.  
Then there came a stone from somewhere.  
It was nothing new. People always try to destroy what they do not understand or fear.  
Erik tried to straighten, but another stone came up from the crowd and because of that his mask fall off. He felt the blood flowing from the torn eyebrow. He has long learned that even the mask can't protect him from injuries.  
Suddenly everything fall silence.  
Erik straightened. Whenever he was in front of the crowd without a mask, there was a silence for a moment. An ominous, heavy silence before storm.  
He saw eyes. Perhaps hundreds of eyes which were staring at him and at his face. There were eyes that followed him in all nightmares. Those eyes that hurt more than stones, because they showed him that he was the inferior. That he is the one who will never get anything more than hit with stone.  
He lifted his mask from the ground and put it on the bleeding face again. As he straightened, the girl stood before him. She was not a child, but she was far from being adult. Her big blue eyes looked at him. Faintly, she reached for the mask then. Erik froze. Even though every muscle in his body commanded him to escape, he could not move.  
The girl gently removed his mask and looked at the torn eyebrow and the eye what slowly began to swell.  
"You should get something cold on your eye," she said in a sweet, quiet voice.  
Erik finally dared to breathe. The girl who stood in front of him was not afraid of him, but she was afraid of his health.  
He has never experienced anything like this in his life.  
There was a sudden whisper from the crowd. It was as like the crowd had turned into a huge, ominous irritated wasp nest and wanted to destroy the one who caused its irritation.  
"Be finally silence at last!" Erik cried out into the crowd. Then he turned back to the girl. She did not run away. Still standing in front of him, alive and without signs of fear in her eyes.  
The girl gave him a mask and took his hand. Firmly she led him away. Down from the stage, through the crowd that in disbelief spread out. She was like Moses who led the Israelites through the Red Sea, and he, like the Israelites, was so scared that he dared not do anything different but follow her through the walls of the people who always promised only pain and death.  
Peacefully, she led him away. Far from the crowd, far from the city, where he performed on a small, temporary stage. Away from all pain and suffering.  
She led him to a small house on the coast.  
Without hesitation she opened the door and called in.  
"Daddy? Dad! I lead someone who needs help, "she called innocently. A blonde bearded man appeared in the doorway. When he saw Erik, he froze in fear.  
Erik realized that he had forgotten to put on a mask. It was so heavy in his hand now, he was feeling like Sisyphus pulling his stone.  
"Sweetheart, come here to me ..." the man said quietly to his daughter. When she came to him, Erik felt as though he was getting up from a dream. Now they will rout him out.  
He was not entitled to compassion.  
"Honey, go to the kitchen and find something cold," said father suddenly. Erik looked at him in disbelief. He could not believe anything about what was happening. Father watched his daughter go to the kitchen and then he stepped back so that their sudden visitor could enter.  
Erik felt like the heavens opened.  
He made several uncertain steps before his legs betrayed him.  
The man supported him and prevented his fall.  
"Are you all right?" He asked cautiously. Erik nodded.  
"Yes, I'm all right," he convinced. The man took him in and helped him sit on a chair. Then he carefully examined the wounds on his face.  
"I think you'll have a scar on your eyebrow," he said after a moment, straightening to get out for something to wipe blood.  
Erik did not resist smirk.  
His whole body was disfigured. Not only face, but everything else. His body was interwoven with the deformities he had carried since his birth, but also the scars he could not resist during his life.  
A small scar on his face could not bother him.  
A little girl ran out of the kitchen with a piece of meat in her hand. Probably the last that the family could afford.  
Her father gestured to take it to their guest and came to him with a bottle of alcohol and cloth to treat open wounds.  
He knelt in front of him and carefully touched his eyebrow.  
"So ..." he began quietly while he was working. "What did you do at the fair?"  
"I was performing as a magician," Erik admitted, clutching a piece of cold meat on the swollen eye. The cold was relieving.  
"That's interesting ..." the man continued, tapping the bottle and lying it down on the table. Then he sat opposite Erik.  
"I never wanted to do it, but somehow the circumstances forced me to do it ..." Erik admitted after a moment of silence. He stared at his mask, which was still in his hand.  
"If you had the opportunity, what would you like to do?" The man asked him. Erik looked at him.  
"I want to make music," he admitted. The man before him smiled.  
"Are you a musician? And what are you playing? "He asked enthusiastically. Erik swallowed nervously. He was not used to be in company, what look at him without mask and even talk with him like to normal man.  
"Anything that makes a sound. Violin, piano, organ, vocal cords. Everything," he said quietly, looking again at his mask. It was the reason why he could not perform as a musician. People would not listen to him because of his music, but because of what he looks like. He would be famous for his mask and face, not for his songs.  
The father of the girl rose from his chair and left for a moment. When he returned, he had a violin case in his hand.  
"I'm a musician. I live like a fiddler. I walk from village to village and play violin and my daughter walks with me and sings. I am old and I cannot play as before, but at last for last time, I want to hear how these old violin sounds in their full glory," he said, handing his case to his guest.  
Erik looked at him questioningly, and then stood up to put the mask and the meat on the table.  
Carefully he took the violin case and opened it. Inside were old violin but Erik could recognized that their owner cared for them with love.  
Gently he took them out and stroked the strings. He welcomed them as if they were a living being. Then he put them under his chin and took a bow.  
He stood motionless for a moment. He just looked at the girl and the men who welcomed him in their house with open arms and gave him little of their own.  
He closed his eyes and let the violin sounds.  
And then the heavens opened again.


End file.
